


Abu el Banat

by MissMudpie



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 16:02:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2627717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMudpie/pseuds/MissMudpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abu el Banat.  It means Father of Daughters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Abu el Banat

“Do you even understand half of what they’re saying?” he asks, but Laurel simply waves a hand and shushes him. She’s fifteen, a freshman in high school (and really, how the hell is he old enough to have a kid who’s in high school?) and completely obsessed with a show about the White House.

At the commercial break, Laurel answers. “I don’t get all of it, because they talk so fast, but I understand most of it. Besides, it’s about people trying to change the world, make it better.” She sighs and falls back against the couch cushions. “That’s what I want to do.” She looks at her father. “You’d like it if you watched.”

“I doubt it,” Lance says, just as Sara comes tiptoeing down the stairs. “Didn’t your mother ground you?”

“Aww, Dad…”

Laurel and her show are forgotten as Lance argues with his precocious teenager about curfews and grades.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Laurel does suck him into that damn show, though, and several years later they’re all sitting on the couch one night in early December, listening to President Bartlett relate his nickname.

“Abu el Banat,” Sara says, the Arabic tripping over her tongue.

“Father of Daughters,” Laurel finishes. She bumps Lance’s shoulder with her own. “Just like you, Dad.”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

It’s strange, the things you think about in the wake of a tragedy.

When Laurel tells him, finally tells him, that his youngest daughter, his Sara, is gone again, gone for good, Lance stares at a glass of whiskey for several hours before calling his sponsor. When he finally gets home, all he can do is stare at the dark.

It’s strange, the things you think about in the wake of a tragedy. 

Lance thinks about that damn show about the White House, about President Abu el Banat. Father of Daughters. Plural.

Now he’s once again down to one. 

And with that thought, he finally sobs.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

He finds her two weeks later in the cemetery, a wisp of a girl all clad in black. Sin, he remembers, a kid who used to run around with Roy Harper. He hadn’t been aware that she and Sara were close.

She mentions heading to a shelter, but Lance can’t let her walk away, not this girl who Sara used to care for, used to love. So he takes her to Big Belly, makes sure she gets extra fries and a chocolate shake. When he drops her off at the shelter, he insists she takes his card.

“I want you checking in with me every three days, you got it?”

Sin rolls her eyes. “I’m doing fine on my own.”

“Yeah, I know, you got it all figured out.” Why are all his girls so stubborn? “What I’m saying is, you don’t have to do it all on your own.”

Sin considers this for a moment, then takes his card, stuffing it in her jacket pocket. “Thanks for the burgers,” she says over her shoulder as she exits the car.

Lance is pretty sure he’ll never see her again, especially after three days pass with no call. Then, on the afternoon on the fifth day, Sin appears in the precinct, looking edgy and out of place. 

“Never been here voluntarily before,” she says as he welcomes her into his office.

“Why are you here? Everything alright?”

“Yeah. I just…Here.” She gently tosses a paper bag on his desk. “Cops like donuts, right? That’s not just some thing?”

Lance grins as he opens the bag. “Yeah, we like donuts.” He takes one and offers her half. “Everything okay?”

Sin shrugs. “I miss her.”

The donut gets stuck in his throat and Lance has to swallow hard to push it past his grief. “Me, too.”

“She didn’t really tell me, about her life before I met her. And I’m guessing she didn’t tell you about me.” Lance nods, so Sin continues. “So, I thought, you know, we could tell each other about her. Maybe that way, she’s not really gone. You know?”

Her simple request stops his breath for a moment, but when he regains it he smiles. “Sure, kid. That sounds good.”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

For three weeks he and Laurel communicate solely through text messages. He’s too angry to speak to her in person, but she’s all he has left, and he needs to be sure she’s safe. 

She finally comes to him, waiting on his front steps one night with a bag of groceries beside her. “I’ll go, if you want. But, Dad…”

She doesn’t finish, because Lance simply hugs her, pulling her close. Laurel’s head finds the nook in his shoulder, the same place she used to sleep for hours when she as an infant.

“I’m so sorry, Dad.”

“Shhh. I know, sweetheart. I know.”

There are tears in both their eyes when Laurel finally pulls back. Lance gives her a kiss on the forehead and clears his throat. “So what’d you bring?”

“Lasagna.”

They cook in his small kitchen, sharing stories about the perps they saw that day. Everything is good, easy, and Lance is just starting to think they can do this, they can move on from Sara’s second death and Laurel’s secrets, when the sauce bubbles up and droplets of tomato sauce hit Laurel’s cardigan.

“Dammit!” She whips it off, her cami revealing her arms.

Her well-defined arms.

Lance feels his heart stutter.

“Laurel. Have you been working out?”

There’s a brief pause as she tries to scrub out the sauce in the sink. Too easily, she answers, “Yeah. Just some boxing.”

“Boxing?” A chill runs over him. “Like fighting?” When Laurel doesn’t answer, Lance grabs her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “Laurel. Laurel, please. Tell me you aren’t learning how to fight. Tell me this isn’t about Sara.” When she won’t meet his eyes, he gives her shoulders a shake. “Laurel, please.”

She pushes his hands from her in a self-defense move he taught her long ago. “What do you want me to say, Dad?”

“I want the truth. I want you to promise me you aren’t trying to be like your sister.”

“I can’t give you both of those.”

“You aren’t Sara.”

“I know I’m not Sara!” she yells. “You think you’re the first person to tell me that? I know how she was trained. I know I’m nowhere near that. But I can’t just…I can’t…Her death has to mean something.”

“And you doing this, that gives it meaning?”

“I don’t know!” she shouts. A deep breath, and then, calmer, “I don’t know. But it’s a start.”

There’s silence for a few moments, then Laurel grabs her jacket. “I should go.” Lance can only nod. “I’ll text you tomorrow.”

They don’t speak again until some time later.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

“Just on back-up,” the Arrow’s modulated voice had said. “Let us handle her.”

Lance had nodded and agreed to stay in his car a few blocks away.

But that was before the psycho calling herself Cupid had cornered Miss Smoak.

There’s a muffled voice, then the muted thud of an arrow hitting soft flesh, followed by a soft “Oh!” There’s silence over the comms for half a second before – 

“Felicity!” 

It’s ringing out in stereo, the Arrow and another voice calling to her, telling her to hang on, begging for an answer. Lance turns off his comm as he runs down the wet alley. The doctors told him he needs to take it easy, that his heart doesn’t need extra stress, but he pushes all that out of his mind as he rounds the corner.

She’s propped up against the wall, a pink arrow in her gut and blonde hair spilling down her back. For a second, all he can see is Sara. He wonders if this is how she looked, seconds before she took her last breath.

Not this time. Not again. 

“Delta-Charlie 52. I need a bus ASAP.” He radios in their location, and Felicity’s eyes flutter open at his voice.

“Detective Lance.”

“There’s an ambulance on its way.” He cradles her face. “You stay awake, alright, Miss Smoak?”

“It hurts,” she whispers, and she sounds so small, like a child after a nightmare.

“I know,” he soothes. “But we’re gonna get you fixed up.” To his radio, he says, “Give me an ETA on that bus,” and the voice on the other end tells him four minutes.

“Felicity!”

Lance has never heard a voice more filled with panic.

The Arrow rounds the corner at a sprint, skidding to a stop and dropping to his knees beside them. One hand finds her cheek as the other moves to pull back the hood.

“No,” she says softly. She tries to reach for him but the Arrow stops her with gentle words Lance can’t quite hear. “She ran that way.” 

“I don’t care.” Looking at Lance for the first time, he bites out, “Ambulance?”

“On their way.”

“And you can’t be here when they are.”

“I am not leaving you.” Even though the modulator is off, his voice is still rough and pitched low.

“Oliver!” Miss Smoak is firm. “You need to go.”

The two look at each other in a way that makes Lance feel like he’s intruding on an intimate moment. 

“Felicity,” the younger man whispers, and she simply nods. “Take care of her,” he tells Lance, and then the Arrow is rounding the corner.

“You knew,” Miss Smoak says after a moment.

Lance shrugs. “For a while now, I guess. Just didn’t want to admit it.”

She nods and opens her mouth to speak, but is interrupted by Lance’s radio.

“What do you mean, a delay?” Lance barks back, and Miss Smoak’s eyes slide shut as the voice on the other end relays the accident on Broad that’s blocking the main route to their location. 

“John,” she whispers. “You need to tell John...Remind him about the file.”

“Don’t worry about the case now, alright?”

“It’s not about the case.”

Something in her voice tips him off about what, exactly, is in the file. 

“No,” Lance says. “No. You just keep breathing, alright, Miss Smoak?”

“I’m cold,” she mumbles as her head droops forward.

“Hey!” Lance lifts her head, rubs her cheeks with his thumbs until her eyes open a crack. “Stay wake, sweetheart, okay? Help’s coming.” He repeats this as a mantra, even as her eyes close once more. 

Not again, he thinks. Not this time. Not another one.

It’s seven long minutes before the EMTs load her into the ambulance. Another fifteen before they arrive at the hospital and she’s whisked upstairs to surgery, where she remains for another three hours. Lance spends that time pacing the hall, begging and bargaining to whatever deity who will listen to save her.

He’s not sure if he’s praying for Miss Smoak or Sara.

Queen joins him an hour in, along with the Harper kid and his old driver. He gives the kid an update. Neither one mention what occurred in the alley.

Finally, the doctor lets them know that she’s safe, she’s in the clear, that she’ll be out for a while longer but they can see her in the morning. When no man moves, she adds, “So you should all go home.” And when it’s clear that won’t happen, she looks at all their faces, sighs, and says, “One.”

Lance has never seen Queen move so fast, not even that time he walked in on him and Laurel making out in her room.

It’s noon before Lance can make it back to see her, pale but alive. Queen excuses himself, letting the two have a moment alone.

“How you feeling, kid?” he asks, and he doesn’t miss the way her eyes light up at the term of endearment.

“They got me on the good stuff,” she says, indicating her IV. “Thank you,” she says sincerely.

Lance just reaches for her hand. It’s warm. “When they let you out of here, we should grab a coffee.”

“I’d like that, Detective. I mean, Captain.”

He laughs. “Quentin is fine, Miss Smoak.”

“Felicity.”

“Felicity,” he repeats, tucking some of her blonde hair out of her face. “You get better. I don’t think out mutual friend can function very long without you.” A shadow crosses her face, and he wonders if he’s said the wrong thing.

But then she smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and she says, “I will.”

He passes Queen in the hall. “Take care of her.” He repeats the Arrow’s own words back to him.

Queen just nods. “Always.” And then he’s back by her side.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The Arrow disappears. He’s not sure what happened; even though he now officially knows his real identity, it’s clear he hasn’t been allowed into the inner circle. No one will tell him what happened, and he thinks it’s largely because they don’t even know what happened. Felicity has circles under her eyes whenever they meet for lunch. Laurel is still distant, and the few times he’s seen her she’s looked tense and on edge.

But the bad guys in Starling don’t take a break just because the Arrow is gone. As expected, the criminal elements become bolder.

What’s unexpected is that their efforts are largely held in check. Even without the Arrow.

Lance knows he’s got a team, but this – this is more than just the kid in the red suit and the driver.

He finds out just who during a drug deal that he ran headlong into, not waiting for back-up. One moment he’s surrounded by members of the mob, seconds away from being blown away, and the next he’s watching in awe as those same mobsters are bought down by a group of masked avengers. The Harper kid he knows, and based on the gunshots outside he guesses Diggle must be nearby. But the big guy all in black is new. As is…

He must be seeing things.

Because in the corner, fighting two guys at once, is Sara.

She’s dressed in black, long blonde hair flying around her. (Lance always wondered how that hair wasn’t a liability in a fight.)

Except, unlike Sara, she’s using two heavy batons to fight. And her movements aren’t fluid. There’s a rawness to her fighting style, and she makes mistakes that allow the men to get in more than their fair share of shots. But then she screams, a primal sound, and with two quick moves both men are at her feet.

As the guy in black takes down his last opponent, the sound of sirens appears in the background. The vigilantes flee, the woman looking back at him before escaping with the others.

After the perps have all been processed, he makes his way to Laurel’s apartment. He’s not at all surprised to see she’s got a bag of frozen peas in her hands, although he is a little shocked to find she’s not alone.

“You want to tell me about your night?”

Laurel crosses her arms. “Ted, can you give us a minute?” The guy – Ted – nods and heads back to the kitchen. “What do you want, Dad?”

“So you’re not even going to try to deny it?”

“The city still needs saving.”

“And you’re gonna save it?”

“I’m helping. With the Arrow gone…”

“Helping the Arrow got your sister killed.”

“No, Dad, helping the Arrow started healing Sara. It was joining the League that got her killed.”

Lance runs a hand over his face. “I can’t do this again, Laurel. I can’t lose another daughter. This is gonna get you killed. You aren’t your sister, Laurel, you aren’t trained. This isn’t you.”

“You’re wrong.”

Both father and daughter turn to the voice. 

“Ted,” Laurel warns.

“No, he’s wrong. With all due respect, sir, you’re wrong.”

“You gonna tell me you know more about my own daughter than I do?”

“About this, yeah.” Ted folds his arms across his chest. “Your daughter is a fighter. Is she fully ready? No. But she’s improving faster than any student I’ve ever had before. That drive comes from inside. You can’t teach it.” He puts a hand on her shoulder. “She’s not going to fail. I won’t let her.”

The two share a look that gives Lance a whole other reason to not like this Ted guy.

“I know I’m not Sara,” Laurel finally says. “And I’m not asking you to like it. But you do have to accept it.”

Well, Lance thinks as he drives home. That could have gone better.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The Arrow comes home, but that doesn’t stop Felicity from looking exhausted or Laurel from continuing to fight. If anything, they get worse.

It all comes to a head a few months later, the Arrow and his team against someone named Waller and her secret organization. 

There’s a battle, a war, once more in Starling, and Lance is only grateful that this time the city remains mostly unscathed.

But of course he’s right in the thick of it, Felicity’s voice in his ear guiding him into position. He’s there when the big confrontation happens. He’s there when Laurel appears out of nowhere, batons flashing in the fluorescents. It’s the first time he’s seen her fight since the drug bust. Unlike then, her movements are sure and swift. She dodges blows and rains down her own.

And when it’s all over, when the Arrow and his team have prevailed, she removes her mask and wig and stands before him.

“I know you don’t like it – ”

“I’ll never like, Laurel. That’s what being a parent means.” And then he embraces her. She’s stiff and surprised, but almost immediately leans into his hug. “But I am proud of you,” he whispers into her hair, and he feels her breath stutter.

“Really?”

He pulls back just enough to look her in the eyes. “This doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry. But I won’t try to stop you.”

“I don’t think you could,” Ted says from behind her. To Laurel, he says, “You let your left drop a few times.”

She gingerly touches the emerging bruise on his cheek. “Looks like you did, too.” 

And once again Lance has another reason not to like this Ted guy.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

He doesn’t know Nyssa was a part of the fight until he returns home to find her sitting on his front stoop.

“Mr. Lance,” she says formally.

“I’m surprised you didn’t just let yourself in,” he mutters as he opens the door to his building. 

“I didn’t want to be rude. May I come in now?”

Lance gestures her in with a nod of his head. “I didn’t know you were friends with Queen.”

“We are not friends. But I felt I owed him my assistance.” She sits uneasily on his couch. “I watched Laurel fight. She is quite good. Still a bit unformed, but for the time she’s been fighting…”

“Don’t go getting any ideas about recruiting her,” Lance warns, fixing two glasses of water. “Sorry,” he says as he hands her the glass. “Saving the city doesn’t leave much time for grocery shopping.”

“I came to talk about Sara.”

Lance nods as tears prick his eyes. “I thought as much.”

“I loved your daughter. Very much.” Nyssa clears her throat, and Lance is shocked to see this woman warrior close to tears. “She was my soul.”

Without thinking, Lance reaches out and squeezes her hand. Nyssa covers his hand with her own for a moment before releasing him. 

“The League doesn’t pay, but we do manage to acquire some wealth. Sara put hers in a trust, after she returned to us. I have it here.”

Lance recoils. “I don’t want it.” 

“It is not for you. Sara wanted it to all go to Sin.” She hands him an envelope that Lance guesses must contain the trust’s information. “Please.”

He nods and takes the envelope. 

Nyssa stands. There’s a pause, as if she’s searching for the right words. “If you would ever like to visit Nanda Parbat, to see where Sara lived, it would be my honor to show you.”

There’s no chance in hell Lance will ever take her up on that, but the offer is made with such sincerity that he can’t just turn her down. Instead, he says, “Thanks, but cops don’t get that many vacation days.”

“When you retire, perhaps,” she replies, and then lets herself out.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

“I don’t want it,” Sin says. “It’s blood money.”

“It’s Sara’s money, and she wanted you to have it.” Again, Lance wonders why all his girls have to be so stubborn. “Think of it as her still looking out for you.”

Sin violently stabs a fry in her shake. “I don’t – ”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t need anybody.” Lance rolls his eyes.

Sin glares at him, then leans back in her seat and sighs. “You should keep it. I’ll just blow it on burgers and leather jackets.”

“Or, you could use it for this.” He slides a brochure across the table.

“Starling City Community College?” Sin snorts. “Right, Lance. Real funny.”

“I’m not laughing,” he says, a little more sternly than he intends. Sin turns her eyes away and to the side. “Listen, kid,” he says, a little more gently. “There’s more to life than just shelters and the street. Sara wanted more for you. I want more for you.”

Sin spins the brochure on the table. “I didn’t even graduate high school. What makes you think I’m smart enough for college?”

“Well, you’re enough of a smartass for college, that’s for sure,” he teases, and Sin smiles.

“Sometimes I’d hear Sara speaking in Arabic, or order Chinese in Chinese. I was always jealous that she knew another language.” She looks up at him. “Think they offer Arabic at SC-3?”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

They use part of Sara’s money to rent a studio apartment a few blocks from campus. Felicity tutors Sin, and with her help the younger woman earns her GED with high marks. Laurel’s letter of recommendation seals the deal, and that fall Sin enrolls at SC-3.

Her first A comes in Arabic 101.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

He opens the door to Big Belly, and immediately Felicity turns green.

“You okay, kid?” he asks. She’s been looking tired again, more tired than usual the past few weeks, but she keeps insisting things are fine on the Arrow front.

She swallows loudly and nods. “Maybe we can go somewhere else for lunch?”

Lance regards her. “Sure,” he says. “Sushi?”

“No! I mean, no sushi, thanks.” If anything, she looks even greener at the mention of raw fish. “Maybe we can go to the deli?”

Lance gets a Reuben on rye. Felicity orders chicken salad, but she only nibbles on the bread. She also excuses herself for the restroom twice.

She’s sliding back into the booth after her latest trip when Lance asks, “So. How far along are you?”

She stares at him, and Lance can tell she’s weighing the pros and cons of telling him versus denying it. Finally, she says, “Seven weeks. We haven’t told anyone yet. Is it that obvious?”

“Not to the uninitiated. But I bet you Mr. Diggle knows. You feeling alright?”

“Yeah. Just tired all the time. And nauseous. And I can smell everything. And tired.” She sighs. “The book says I should feel better at twelve weeks.” 

Lance doesn’t tell her that Dinah’s morning sickness with Sara lasted until week sixteen. Instead, he says, “You should stop pulling such late nights in the Cave.”

“Huh,” she laughs with no humor. “You sound like Oliver.” And Lance once again wonders why every one of his girls falls for Oliver Queen.

“This might be the one time I actually agree with Que- Oliver.” He corrects himself off her look. “I’m guessing this was…unexpected?”

“That’s an understatement.”

“And Que-Oliver. He’s handling it?”

“Better than I am,” Felicity mutters, picking at the top of her sandwich but still not eating. She shreds the bread into smaller and smaller pieces until Lance reaches out to stop her.

“Hey,” he says softly. “You know whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay. Nothing you say will make me think different of you, you hear?”

She nods. “It’s just…too fast. With Applied Sciences and my other job, how are we going to find time to also take care of a baby? It’s just…I keep thinking it’s not the right time.”

“Well, let me let you in on a little secret. Having kids? There’s never a right time for it.” He eyes her still-flat stomach. “That’s why it takes them nine months. Give the parents time to figure it all out. And look at Mr. Diggle. They figured it out.”

Felicity considers his words. “What if we can’t?”

“Felicity,” Lance says, and he waits for her meet his eyes. “I’m pretty sure there’s no problem in the world that you can’t solve.” She gives him a watery smile, and to save them both from embarrassment he adds, “Queen I’m not so sure about, but I got no doubts about you.”

She laughs. “Okay.” And takes a bite of her sandwich.

On his way back to the precinct, Lance stops by a child’s consignment store. He doesn’t go in, but he eyes the window display and wonders if in eight months he’ll be buying pink or blue onesies. 

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Neither, it turns out.

Felicity miscarries eight days later.

They skip their weekly lunch that week, but the next finds her knocking on his office door, looking shy and a little unsure.

“If you’re too busy…”

“Not busy at all,” he says, throwing on his jacket. He gives her shoulders a squeeze. “How you feeling?” 

She just shrugs.

Felicity opens up as they eat. She doesn’t mention the miscarriage and so Lance doesn’t ask. Instead she gets him up to speed on their latest case, and he fills her in on Sin’s progress at school.

“I keep meaning to call her,” says Felicity.

“You should. She’d appreciate it.”

It’s not until they’re walking back to the precinct that it happens. Felicity is talking about a new project at QC, a technological wonder that Lance can’t really follow, when suddenly she stops. He follows her line of sight to find they’re directly across the street from that damn baby consignment store.

“I keep telling myself that it happened for a reason,” she says softly. “All the studies suggest that a miscarriage that early means there was something wrong with the fetus anyways. But I – ” her voice breaks. “But I wasn’t sure I even wanted it. Do you think…Do you think I did it?”

“No, sweetheart.” Lance hugs her tight, and Felicity’s head finds the nook in his shoulder. “This isn’t your fault. It just happens. It happened to Dinah. It just happens.” He hears her sniffle, so he pulls back to wipe the tears from her cheeks and place a kiss on her forehead. “You can have as many or as few kids as you want, yeah? And they will all be beautiful and smart, just like their mother.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He gives her another hug. “You’re gonna be fine, kid. I promise.”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

It’s May, which means another battle for the future of Starling City.

Really, this is becoming an annual event.

Once again the Arrow and his team are in the trenches. Once again he watches Laurel fight her way through a swath to men. Once again he has Felicity’s voice in his ear directing him where to go.

But this time he’s not as fast on the draw, he doesn’t see the danger until it’s staring him in the face.

He doesn’t feel the bullet as it enters his gut. He just feels hot, and then suddenly very, very cold.

“DAD!!!” Laurel screams, but it sounds far away.

“Lance, just hang on. You need to keep breathing, okay, just stay awake and keep breathing.” But Felicity’s voice sounds like it’s traveling through water.

Everything goes white.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The first thing he’s aware of when he opens his eyes is the soreness of his throat. He’s thirsty, very thirsty.

“Hey, old man,” he hears from his side. Sin smiles down at him. “Man, Laurel is gonna be pissed. She’s been sitting here for hours and Felicity just convinced her to go get some coffee.”

“How long?” His voice is scratchy, and Sin gives him some water as she answers.

“Almost a whole day.”

“Dad?” Laurel rushes to his side, and Sin backs out of the way. There are tear tracks down her face as she sits gingerly on the edge of the bed. “You’re awake.”

“The bullet lacerated your spleen.” He can hear Felicity’s voice, although he can’t yet see her. “But it missed the intestine.”

“They said if it had been a quarter of an inch the other way…”

“Well, then,” he says. “Thank God for quarter inches.” He looks at each other them in turn. “Have any of you been home?” Felicity’s still wearing the same clothes she had on before the fight; Laurel’s in the clothes she keeps at the gym, from which she and Ted operate; Sin is in sweats and a large SCCC pullover, looking like she rushed to the hospital in the middle of the night. “How did you convince them to let you all stay?”

Sin grins. “Laurel tried to pull her ‘I’m the DA’ card, but when that didn’t work she just straight up lied.”

“I did not lie,” Laurel says. “What I said was the truth.” She looks at Felicity and Sin and then back at Lance. “I told them we were family.”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

He’s released two days later and ordered to take it easy. He figures he’ll take the rest of the week and then head back to work on Monday.

He did not count on the Wardens Three.

Sin practically moves in, setting up camp on his couch. (“I used to sleep on the street. Trust me, the couch is nothing.”) When she’s at class, Laurel and Felicity tag team, so that he’s barely alone for the next week and a half. He grumbles and pouts and insists he’s fine, but even Lance has to admit that it’s nice, having them all there for dinner each night.

(Even if Felicity sometimes brings Oliver and Laurel brings Ted. They’re good men, he knows, even Queen. Just not good enough for his girls.)

(Sin keeps receiving text messages that make her blush, and Lance wonders how soon it will be before he’ll have to deal with yet another significant other.)

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He’s a little late for Sunday night dinner at Laurel’s, and when he walks in, dessert in hand, he can feel the tension in the room. Felicity is busying herself in the kitchen, and Laurel and Sin are eyeing each other in a way that makes Lance suspect they had been in the middle of an argument when he pushed through the door.

“Everything all right?” he asks. Sin turns towards him, and he immediately notices the shiner around her right eye.

“Crap, kid! What happened?” He reaches out for her, but she turns away.

“I’m fine.”

“You are not fine!” Laurel seethes.

“Laurel…” Felicity warns.

But Laurel barges on. “Tell him, Sin.”

“It was just a stupid fight.”

“Fight? Who were you fighting?”

When Sin doesn’t answer, Laurel threatens, “Tell him or I will.”

“You’re such a snitch, Laurel!” Sin throws back. “And it wasn’t a real fight, it was just…”

“Training,” Laurel picks up when it’s clear Sin won’t go on. “She was training. With Thea.”

Lance has to sit down. Not another one.

“I want to help!” Sin cries. “You think I don’t know what’s going on? Everyone in this family can fight except me!” 

“Which is why you don’t need to!”

“Dad almost died!” Sin points to Lance, but he’s so upset by the conversation that he doesn’t notice the name she’s called him. “And I couldn’t do anything to help! I want to help!”

“You don’t know what you’re doing. You will get yourself killed.”

“That’s what people used to say about you, Laurel,” Felicity supplies, and all Lance can think is, Et tu, Felicity?

“You agree with her?” Laurel asks, incredulous.

“I think she’s going to do what she wants. And I think Thea is unqualified to train someone.”

“Yeah, well, tell Oliver to forget it. I’m not slapping water for three months.”

“I wasn’t talking about Oliver.” Felicity gives Laurel a meaningful look. “Maybe it’s time Black Canary got a sidekick.”

Laurel turns slowly from Felicity to Sin. “Is there any way to stop you?”

“Nope,” answers Sin.

“School comes first. You’re still transferring to SCU next semester.”

“Okay.”

“And I’m not going to take it easy on you.”

Sin grins. “When do we start?”

Lance buries his face in his hands and wonders why all his girls insist on looking for trouble.

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“It’s unlocked!” Sin yells when he knocks, and Lance lets himself into her apartment. 

“You’re going to be late.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Sin rushes into the living room, her black graduation robe tripping her up and she reaches for her boots. “I overslept.”

“Another late night?” He still doesn’t like it, but in the past two years he’s learned to accept what his girls do at night. At least Felicity stays in the Foundry more often than not.

(Although there was an undercover mission she went on last month that got a little hairy. Lance didn’t sleep a wink that night.)

“Yeah. We got ‘em though, so it was worth it.” She stands and grabs her hat. “Let’s go.”

“Hold up, hold up.” He grabs her elbow as she rushes past him. “I got something for you.” He hands her a small box.

Inside is a chain with a silver bird charm on the end. Sin simply stares, so Lance rushes to fill the silence. “I know it’s not as threatening as a Raptor,” he says, referring to her newly-earned codename. “But it is a bird and it looks kinda like…”

“A canary,” Sin finishes.

“She’d be so proud of you, kid.”

“You think?”

“I know.” Lance hugs her. “I am, too.” He pulls back to give her a kiss on the forehead. “Come on, you can put it on in the car. Can’t be late to your own graduation.”

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Lance’s years of rushing headlong into danger finally catch up to him. Between being shot in the stomach and his weak heart, the force puts him up for early retirement four years later.

There’s a surprise party at Felicity’s house. There’s good food and better company, and even though he insisted he didn’t need any, they all bring gifts.

His favorite part of the evening is after dinner, when he curls up on the couch with Laurel’s infant daughter on his shoulder and reads to Felicity’s three-year-old son.

The party is just breaking up when Felicity’s tablet starts beeping and everyone stops.

“They’re moving that shipment of arms tonight.”

“I thought that wasn’t going down until Friday.”

“They must have changed their plans.”

“Go,” he tells them. “I got these two.”

“You’re sure?” asks Laurel.

“Go.” 

Laurel drops a kiss on both her daughter’s and his head. “Behave,” Felicity tells her son. “Bedtime in ten minutes.” Sin hangs back to wait for her mentor.

“Hey,” Lance calls to them, and all three turn at the door. “Just be careful, alright?”

He wonders once again why all his girls have to be heroes.

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The ticket arrives in the mail three weeks later. There’s no name, but Lance knows exactly whom it’s from.

Two weeks later, his plane lands in New Delhi. From there he takes a prop plane over the mountains and deserts of the Middle East, landing in a town he’s sure does not appear on any maps.

Nyssa is waiting for him when he deplanes. “Mr. Lance,” she says. “I am glad you came.”

It’s another few hours by truck before they finally arrive at the cliffs and enter Nanda Parbat.

“You sure it’s okay, me being here?”

“You are my guest, Mr. Lance. No harm will befall you.”

It’s not exactly the comfort he was seeking.

But he lets Nyssa lead him. He sees where Sara trained, where she first lived when she arrived and, later, the rooms she shared with Nyssa. They watch a young man train a group of children, and when they break Nyssa calls him over.

“The Dragon taught Sara how to use her bö.” To the man, she speaks in rapid Arabic, but Lance manages to grasp her meaning. He latches on to the two terms he knows. 

Ta-er al-Sahfer. The Canary.

And Abu el Banat.

Father of Daughters.


End file.
